


into the heist

by Marenke



Series: Inktober 2019 [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Heist, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Inktober, Inktober 2019, Not Epilogue Compliant, Not Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-23 05:30:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20886920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marenke/pseuds/Marenke
Summary: “What are we looking for now?”“Cursed books. A pearl necklace that belonged to our patron. An Augury, too, if we can snag it.”“Should I be surprised it is a cursed item?”





	into the heist

**Author's Note:**

> inktober prompt day 4 - freeze  
not much. freezing but hey,

“Alright, so we enter through this passage,” Daphne said, pointing to a small, almost erased tunnel on the map, shoes walking themselves as the map’s magic worked. Harry nodded, as he saw Daphne adjusting her blonde hair in a better bun, and Harry had to tear off his eyes off her. She smirked. “And then we can get in this room. Supposedly, the treasure the Rowle family hid is in the basement, but we can _only _ get inside without tripping the wards through _that _passage.”

“What are we looking for now?” He asked, checking the planned route. It seemed pretty much perfect, since there seemed to be no portraits to snitch on them.

Daphne grinned, blue eyes shining with happiness.

“Cursed books. A pearl necklace that belonged to our patron. An Augury, too, if we can snag it.”

Harry gave her an amused eye roll.

“Should I be surprised it is a cursed item?” For that, he got a light elbow to his ribs, and Harry grinned.

* * *

Harry had never gone through Auror training like his younger self wished for - sure, he had gone to almost every class and passed them with flying colors, but he had grown bored, going through the motions with no meaning in life.

Until, one day, during an on-field experience with one of his Auror trainers - yet another raid in some old, decrepit manor of some long dead family that had had more cursed wards than an Egyptian tomb, trying to track down yet another cursed item for the Unspeakables to study -, they ran into an unprecedented situation: a one-man heist.

Or, rather, one-woman; he was the first one to find Daphne Greengrass, soot covering her face, wand behind her ear, the plan view of the house in one hand, and a exploding potion on another. Harry wanted to hex her and try to understand how she had gotten inside and why she had those items, but his curiosity got the best of him.

“Uh, what are you doing…?” He had asked, back then, closing the door, and Daphne, rolling her eyes, huffed.

“My current patron _really _ wants the cursed earrings sitting on the vault of this house, but I _can’t _seem to figure out how to get there, since there’s a curse on this manor that changes the layout of the house every half an hour.” She had grumbled, setting her eyes back on the floor plan. It seemed to be parchment, enchanted to move. Harry frowned at the sketch on it, though - it looked like a child’s drawing, and he wasn’t sure how Daphne was understanding what was happening in it. “But the good thing is that the floor plan changes as well, so I’ve been watching it to see if there’s a pattern.”

Well, that sounded better than his current “let’s run around and find the basement!” plan. He approached her and sat by her side, Daphne giving him an odd look.

“What? This sounds better than running amok.”

“And… You’re not going to turn me in to the Aurors, right?” She had asked, cautiously, fingering her wand, and Harry shrugged.

“No way.”

After that, he had grabbed the item his trainer had asked - a cursed necklace - and been able to send Daphne off with not only the earrings her patron had paid for, but also a few spare galleons they had found lying around. Harry had also left with the contact of Daphne’s fireplace and an itching for more, which was how he ended up like this after one too many doses of Firewhiskey, an unprompted call to Daphne’s too-cramped with cursed items flat, and a last-minute participation on a heist. He had dropped out of the Auror course for that soon after, and had never regretted it.

After that, it had been natural for them to fall in love - and in bed - together. It hadn’t been discussed or planned; it had just… _Happened_. Besides, it wasn’t a heist to be planned, anyway.

* * *

To have a better sense of the places they’d infilter, Harry had edited the Hogwarts map his father had created to become any manor, as long as they had either the fireplace address or just general address, and it would become a live floor plan, perfecting the crude drawings Daphne had had before. Although, if Harry was honest, it was still a bit hard for him to read the floor plans and put theory to practice; he wished he had a spy inside the houses. Many of the purebloods which they stole from had children - he guessed he could get a job as a nanny or something, maybe, to learn the houses…? No, that was a ridiculous idea. Who would buy the Boy Who Lived, who had “decided to live off his fortune and become a hermit”, had retired from his early retirement to become a thrice-damned live-in babysitter?

Harry looked at the map once more as they walked through the passage, barely lit by their wands. Condensation was forming on the walls, the smell of mildew and mold heavy on the stagnant air.

“Was it supposed to be this tight?” Daphne grumbled, as Harry felt his shoulders scraping through the rough stone walls. “Merlin be damned, I’m going to charge the new patron _extra_ for this. This is perilous conditions, how does he expect me to go through this passage with those thick tomes and a deadly bird…?”

“With sheer luck? Also, you can just wear the necklace.” Harry suggested, and by the tremble of her shoulders, she was biting back a laugh. “Come on, now, we’ve gotten out of stickier situations.”

“That time with the Reyes in Spain was purely your fault. I am not discussing that.” Daphne shot back, and Harry offered her an eye roll. She stopped, and Harry peered over her shoulder. A door stood, heavy wood with a chipped blue paint, the Rowle family symbol carved elegantly, painted over with gold. Daphne offered a low whistle, and turned off her Lumos spell, bathing them in only the half-light Harry’s wand offered as she readied herself to pick the lock.

Or rather, she would, if screaming hadn’t been heard from the inside, an older woman shrieking much like aunt Petunia against a child, who screamed in pain. Harry gripped his wand tighter, and Daphne’s free hand found his, not even thinking. It was like ice-cold water had decided to fall over them, and they stood trembling in the dark, unable to move, unable to breathe. 

To say both of them had terrible childhoods was underestimating the events. Harry had the Dursleys, and Daphne, as a bastard child of the Greengrasses, had her stepmother. The shrieking woman made both of them stand still, holding their breaths, trembling.

When the woman stopped, the closed the door with a strength that made the door in front of them tremble as well, unsettling dust and making Harry have to stifle a cough.

“Harry, dear.” Daphne asked, half-turning to face Harry. “How do you feel about a child kidnapping and perhaps some murdering?”

The smile on his face terrified and excited him. Harry decided to deal with those feelings later.

“Well, I don’t know… We found that one spell that locks a room permanently, remember?” Harry smiled, and Daphne glowed on the half-light, smiling so brightly at the prospect of starving a woman to death it was blinding. “Okay, let’s go?”

“Of course, dear.” Daphne turned back to the door and opened it, revealing a room with falling wallpaper, mold on the walls growing in flower-like patterns, and a small girl, black wild hair and black eyes, with a bruise that blossomed over on her face. She looked up at the two, terrified, tears springing from her eyes. “Hello there! We’re your new guardians.”

Harry sighed, and the girl kept looking at them, terrified. He approached her cautiously, showing his hands, and she made herself smaller, hugging her too-thin frame. She couldn’t be more than six years old. Harry could see himself on her, especially with the long, thin scar that ran along her face.

“Hello there. I know this looks bad, but we’re trying to rob your…?” He let her respond, because he didn’t want to make assumptions.

“My guardian. Uhm, you can rob her, I don't mind. Take her bird too.” The little girl said, and she looked at Daphne, who passed by him, messed up his hair, and left to cook up a storm. “I’m Delphini.”

The door closed behind them; Daphne would come back. She always did.

“I’m Harry.” He sat down on the sticky carpet, tinted brown. He did not wish to think about what coated it. “This is very bold, but would you like to come with us? We will get rid of your guardian. We’ll understand if you don’t wish to go with two strangers who are, in fact, stealing from your home.”

“This place isn’t my home.” Delphini spat, vicious and furious. She reminded him of Bellatrix, for some reason. “You can get everything she has, and I know where she keeps the good stuff.”

Harry must’ve been spending too much time with Daphne, because he perked up at that.

“Do you?” The little girl nodded. Harry wondered what it could be.

“She has a bunch of galleons underneath her bed. It’s so much it jingles, and she says my mom gave it for her to raise me.” Delphini scoffed, looking pointedly around, and yeah, Harry could get it. She must’ve been bitter. “But I’d like to come with you and your… Wife?”

_Wife _would be nice. He had been meaning to, er, steal a ring, but it seemed every ring he came across was either haunted, cursed, or both. Maybe he should try hitting a shop, instead of other people’s treasuries...

“It would be nice.” Harry replied, and the two of them smiled when they heard the woman from before scream, while Daphne laughed rather maniacally.

* * *

Delphini helped them carry the galleons out of the house, ignoring how her guardian screamed for help. Harry carried the Augury on its birdcage in one hand, and underneath his other arm, a few of the tomes. Daphne, meanwhile, had grabbed for herself some nice jewelry she had found, besides the patron’s requested pearl necklace.

“Thanks for helping me.” Delphini said, focused on the path ahead. She didn’t even touch the walls with her tiny body; she’d be useful for heists, probably. Oh, perhaps she could be the plant Harry had wanted. “Can you two help me kill Harry Potter, too? My guardian said that was my task, to avenge my parents.”

Harry and Daphne gave each other a look. Harry wasn’t surprised someone was trying to kill him, really. It had stopped being newsworthy after the third time.

At least it explained the similarity to Bellatrix, but he also didn’t want to think about Voldemort being capable of reproduction.

“We can try!” Daphne chirped, and Harry laughed.

* * *

Delphini Potter was a very good child, or so said the local pureblood gossip. No one could really believe how the Boy Who Lived, who had quit polite society, one day simply appeared in public with a wife - the Greengrass bastard, can you believe it? - and a child who was not a baby. 

No one ever connected the dots on the rise of robberies in homes and the return of Harry Potter, and the couple laughed, on the privacy of their own home, surrounded by items that weren't theirs, watching as Delphini played with her toys, no bruises marring her skin. 


End file.
